Concept
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Love was a strange concept, and their situation, even stranger. [Slash, RatchetClank, Oneshot.]


Author's Note: I know, I know, because of the pairing, many of you want to grab the nearest sniper rifle and end me. But please, read the whole fic through and tell me what you think. This pairing is actually quite logical, if you think about it, and quite sweet.

I own nothing, I make no profit off of this, all characters belong to their creators.

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It was a strange concept, love.

It could come in so many forms, last for amazingly long and short lengths of time, make a being happy or sad or any emotion in between, and it can develop over time or simply blossom out of nowhere. It could occur between any two people (sometimes more) of any ages, species, and gender, and there was absolutely no control over it. Love could happen no matter how inappropriate the situation, no matter how impossible the odds, or, ideally, it could occur at the perfect sage of a person's life. Sometimes the lovers personalities melded flawlessly, sometimes they borderline hated each other and the friction between them could barely be tamed.

Clank was not sure where he stood with Ratchet in this regard.

Ratchet had started out as an ally, then turned into a friend. When this occurred, he was not sure. He simply knew that the two of them got along better once they began to experience things together, and at some point he realized they were buddies. With time, with fights and calm moments, hang outs and shoot outs, they managed to bond. These things brought them together, but something else solidified the bond.

It was hanging out, just talking and living with Ratchet, that made the bond stronger, better, more powerful. Clank had never understood the concept of 'just knowing' the difference between love and friendship until he realized it one day, as he casually brushed against Ratchet, subconsciously on purpose. The feeling of the soft fur made him feel… what was that feeling? He didn't know how to explain, but from that moment on, the feeling stayed. They talked and they played vid comics, they hung out, but now Clank felt true pleasure from the activities they shared.

Of course, Clank knew biological creatures had preset preferences. For Ratchet, this seemed to mean females of a non-mechanical nature. That fact made him feel something else indescribable, but it was not at all pleasant. It hurt. He knew he didn't have a chance. Clank could see clearly that Ratchet did not return his feelings. To the Lombax, they were merely close friends.

But sometimes, Clank thought he saw signs of something more. Ratchet let himself rest up against Clank when they watched the holo screen. He checked multiple times each fight to make sure the familiar box that was Clank was on his back. Every night, Ratchet said goodnight to him, and once or twice, when he thought the robot was totally asleep, he tucked him in properly, even though Clank did not need a blanket. He defended Clank in conversations. All these things could have been the marks of their deep friendship, but a part of Clank hoped desperately that something else was there.

What were they? Their relationship was beyond casual friends, almost like brothers, but not quite. They cared about each other, yet unlike brothers, they hardly ever argued. It seemed Clank could tell Ratchet anything, and Ratchet could tell Clank about his dreams, knowing he'd never laugh. At the same time, there were moments when they goofed off, just like casual friends. There was no logic to it, Clank decided, and logical analysis was not getting him anywhere. It never had, in regards to Ratchet, because the Lombax did not follow any form of logic.

One night, Clank came home from the filming of Secret Agent Clank to find that Ratchet, who had not been needed on set that day, had passed out playing vid comics. Without knowing why he did so, Clank saved the game, turned off the holo screen, set a pillow beneath his friends head, and placed a thick blanket over his head. He felt better inside, seeing Ratchet in a more sleeping appropriate setting. One thing was missing, though. He gingerly, hesitantly removed the thick helmet Ratchet always sported, and was amazed at how much softer Ratchet looked. Less hardened, less of a solider, more of a person. Clank smiled a genuine smile and would have ruffled Ratchet's fur, if he'd been braver. As it was he merely watched his first love sleep for a moment, then, too tired to drag himself to his own bed, slept on the arm of the couch.

The next morning, Ratchet woke up, his head moving a little too fast without the normal weight of his helmet. His eyes blurry, he reached out and shook Clank awake. Clank sat up, and suddenly froze. The drowsy Lombax and the small robot's faces were close. Really close. Clank had never seen Ratchet this close before, just inches away. The analytical part of his mind noted scratches, faint scars, a few wrinkles, faintly blood shot eyes, and worried for Ratchet's health. The in-love part of him, however, was the part in control, and those dark, rich jade eyes were inviting him in. For once, his eyes didn't hold over enthusiasm or annoyance, grief, pain, frustration – all those emotions Ratchet went through daily. For once he looked innocent. In a way that made it seem almost accidental, Clank brushed his mouth against Ratchet's.

He knew love would intensify physical sensations, but no one had warned him of the jolt of energy he would get, the warmth, and the sudden, unexpected pleasure. Some sort of heat seemed to go through his body, causing him to shiver. He blinked in surprise and moved backward. Ratchet's eyes were wide now. He was awake.

And he had felt it too.

Clank could see it in his eyes, his expression, the way he quietly touched his hand to his lips, as if they'd betrayed him by giving him this feeling from a robot. Quietly, solemnly, Ratchet moved to put the blanket away. He scooped up his helmet. He went through the normal motions of their morning, as if nothing had happened. It took Clank two full minutes to work up the courage to say anything. Ratchet was avoiding his roommate's eyes, as if looking at him was too much for him right now.

"Ratchet-" Clank started, softly, but he was cut off.

"Look, let's just not talk about it, okay?"

And they didn't, they didn't speak of that moment for a very long time. Months passed, in their usual fashion. Explosions and jobs, money and weapons, planets and long trips. It seemed that something was different now. Ratchet was tenser around him now. Clank understood why. Ratchet had a set idea of who he was romantically compatible with, and to him that had meant female, his species, and his age. This was unexpected, like finding a glitch in his biological programming.

After a while, though, it seemed things were back to normal. After they finally made it back home, after they got some time to unwind, after many days of goofing off and relaxing, things were normal. Clank dared not bring up what had happened or try anything else. Their bond was precious but fragile, forged in tough times but not well defined in emotions. A biological being and a robotic one should avoid this kind of thing, Clank decided, but his heart was not convinced.

One day Quark opened his big mouth and said something that stung Ratchet. "Oh, please," he'd said quite casually, "Sasha won't go out with you because she's 'busy'? She just knows you're too ugly for her, that's all."

The words burned Ratchet inside, and Clank could see it as the Lombax soldier stormed off to his quarters on the Phoenix. Clank followed him, concerned, and was silent when he discovered that his friend was, very, very quietly, crying, just a little. It hadn't just been Quark, it was a rough week, a terrible week, lots of pressure and fights and no credit for his effort and they were in desperate need of money and Ratchet felt humiliated going to the Annihilation Nation. Clank knew all of this because he knew Ratchet better than anyone. He knew that this was the result of everything, not one thing, and he didn't know how to comfort him, just that he had to try.

Even though it was only a few tears, not even a real sob, Clank sat down beside him and handed him a tissue. Gingerly, he rubbed Ratchet's knee in what he hoped was a soothing manner. The organic concept of 'comfort' was a tricky one for Clank, another ill-defined idea that was hard to execute. The Lombax stopped crying but did not look any happier. His face was downcast, his eyes cold and numb. His life was catching up to him, his situation slamming into him out of the blue, catching him off guard during one of his rare 'down' days.

"Do not listen to what Quark says," Clank whispered. "You are a wonderful Lombax, with many good physical qualities and even more good personality traits. If Sasha says she is busy, then knowing her lifestyle, she _is_ busy. Besides, no one with any sense would purposefully avoid you."

Ratchet closed his eyes. "Clank?"

"Yes?" he had time to ask, then Ratchet was pressing his lips against the startled robot's.

The feeling burst through them again, like a most beautiful fire. It soothed the pain away, burned away common sense for a long moment. Ratchet held Clank to him with one hand behind the robot's head, eyes closed in bliss, and did not part for air until he absolutely needed to. Clank pressed his luck and took the initiative to kiss him, gently. Ratchet smiled into the contact, and finally the depression that had come onto him this week seemed to have lifted. When he opened his eyes, he looked more like the old, cheerful Ratchet that Clank was used to. Something about seeing Ratchet happier made Clank feel good; like he'd done his job in life.

It wasn't awkward when Ratchet laid his head down on the couch, letting Clank share the same blanket, and the two drifted off to sleep. Clank did not understand how that physical contact in their relationship had bounced from being incredibly disturbing to calming and soothing within months. He did not understand how Ratchet had come to the decision that it was alright, in private, at least, to be in love with someone.

All that Clank knew was that Ratchet needed him. Ratchet was a strong person, one of the strongest he knew, but even he had moments where he needed help, needed someone to lean on, depend on. Clank would be that person for him, he decided as Ratchet's breathing slowed. He could not be a physically satisfying mate, he could be a person who gave public displays of affection, but maybe that wasn't what Ratchet needed. Maybe what he needed was these moments, these tender, rare moments to keep his heart strong. Clank knew he could be that person for Ratchet.

Clank also knew that to some, their relationship would be repulsive. He knew that they would never live it down if anyone found out. He understood, now, that relationships are initiated for the sake of the other person, not himself. He could never hurt Ratchet, not in any form. He would be by Ratchet's side until eternity ended.

Love. What a strange concept.

Clank rather liked it.


End file.
